


Pyjama Party

by JennaCupcakes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sleepovers, there was a post on tumblr and then this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaCupcakes/pseuds/JennaCupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason why they have a no-making-out-rule for their sleepovers. Mostly it's because they get free drinks out of the deal when someone fails to stick to that rule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pyjama Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speightdaysaweek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speightdaysaweek/gifts).



> Something I wrote for speightdaysaweek yesterday night based on a tumblr post (http://speightdaysaweek.tumblr.com/post/50595438293/pontmercyfriend-pontmercyfriend). It's not beta-read, and I should probably stop writing after midnight.

“Enjolras, you can’t be serious.”

Courfeyrac actually did a double take and then almost fell off his armchair laughing when Enjolras came back from the bathroom. Enjolras crossed his arms. “What?”

“We have to intervene, you know.” Courfeyrac had his blanket drawn up to his chin and his feet tucked under his body. Jehan was draped over him like an oversized kitten, squinting at the screen of his phone. “We all know that you love red, but it’s becoming a bit of a problem.”

Enjolras frowned. “I can’t see your problem.”

“Red… silk?” That was Marius from somewhere under a pile of blankets that Eponine had thrown at him when he wouldn’t shut up during Casanova. “It’s really a bit too much.”

Enjolras scoffed. “Like you can talk, Marius. At least I’m not looking like a four-year-old.”

“Enjolras is getting defensive!” Grantaire sneered from the bed, buried under yet another heap of blankets – how he’d managed to get the bed nobody knew, but at some point during the evening Courfeyrac had to discover that it was already occupied when he’d wanted to sneak over there with Jehan.

There was a reason their sleepover rules included _no makeout sessions_.  

“Though really, Marius,” Grantaire chuckled, “Why you would choose your Ninja Turtles boxers I have no idea. Didn’t you have that really expensive pair of My Little--”

The rest of his sentence was muffled by a pillow Cosette threw at him to save her boyfriends dignity. She wrapped her arms around Marius with a smile and whispered something into his ear that was too quiet to understand, and then looked back at Grantaire with a frown. “How do you even _know_ that?”

Grantaire smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Marius and Cosette looked equally terrified.

“Shut it, guys,” Feuilly called before Courfeyrac could raise his voice to add his bit of wisdom to Marius’ collection of boxers, “And turn off the lights, some of us are trying to sleep here.”

Eponine grumbled in agreement, and Enjolras, who was still standing, complied and switched off the lights. Finding his way over to his mattress next to the bed in the dark was harder than expected.

“That was my foot!” Combeferre mumbled sleepily, and Enjolras whispered an apology before slumping down on his mattress and disappearing under the comforter. The others could say what they wanted, but at least his red pajama was cozy as hell.

“Courf, is your flat haunted?” Joly whispered from somewhere next to the window.

“Shut up,” Bahorel groaned, and Bossuet could be heard quietly shushing his friend. “There are no ghosts here.”

“Except for the ghosts of Marius’ dignity and my respect for Enjolras’ pajamas,” Grantaire mumbled with a laugh, and Enjolras would have kicked him, but it was too much trouble to actually reach up.

Some time passed in silence, and quiet snoring could be heard from the armchair – probably Jehan falling asleep on top of Courfeyrac.

Next to Enjolras, Grantaire shifted and turned over.

The blankets slipped, and Enjolras did a double take.

“Grantaire,” he whispered, as quietly as possible. There was little more than a dissatisfied grunt to be heard from the bed.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras whispered again, this time a bit louder, and Grantaire turned around. His sleepy, lopsided smile made Enjolras’ heart beat at a ridiculously fast pace when he’d actually wanted to frown.

“Are you wearing… _anything_?”

Grantaire’s smile grew even wider, although his eyes were still half-closed. “No.”

He yawned and stretched and the pale skin of his arms seemed even lighter in the darkness of the room. Enjolras bit back a curse and tried to get the thoughts of Grantaire _naked_ under those damn blankets out of his head.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he muttered and purposely _didn’t_ look at Grantaire.

“Maybe,” Grantaire replied sleepily and Enjolras wanted to give him an angry reply but then there was Grantaire’s hand in his hair and he was drawing him closer and it was really fucking uncomfortable because Grantaire was still lying on the bed and Enjolras was lying on the floor but _fuck this Grantaire wasn’t wearing any clothes_.

Grantaire’s lips were warm and sleepy against his, and he was teasing more than he was actually kissing, smirking into the kiss as he felt Enjolras responding. He had his eyes closed, tracing his tongue lazily along Enjolras’ lips and then pressing in again.

Enjolras pulled back, swore, and climbed on the bed to lie next to Grantaire, who outright refused to move out of his cocoon of blankets, instead wrapping both of his arms around Enjolras and pulling him closer. Even the only faint outline of Grantaire in the midst of the blankets left every nerve in Enjolras’ body singing with the reminder that Grantaire was naked under those blankets and he really wanted to be angry at him but found that he couldn’t when Grantaire was breathing warm against him and he leaned in for another kiss and yes, this had definitely been a good idea –

“Surprise, motherfuckers!”

The light went on and Enjolras almost fell off the bed with a startled groan. Bahorel was looming over the two of them, and Eponine was standing at the light switch. “Tut, tut, tut, we said no making out.”

They both seemed entirely too pleased with themselves for Enjolras’ liking, and envied Grantaire for his blankets to hide in.

“Guess who’s paying for the drinks next week,” Courfeyrac announced cheerily, “And to think you were all betting on me, please. I’m entirely innocent, whereas our leader here…”

“I hate you all,” Enjolras announced and crawled back under his comforter. When the light went out, Grantaire’s hand snuck down to stroke his hair, and he fell asleep faster than he would’ve thought. 


End file.
